Ten Years of Boredom
by sister2death
Summary: Ten years has past since Quatre has seen his friends from the war, will he spend another year alone or is things looking up for him?


                This is an old story of mine, hmmm… similar to some I have, I haven't finished it yet, but keep an eye out, I'll try to add some more ^_^

Sitting Quatre Winner began to think of all of the events that had happened to him which had been engraved into his mind. His many companions, who had come and gone as quickly as the passing of a breeze. Heero, Duo, Trowa, Wufei, all of which had never re-entered his life since the last battles of the seemingly endless war.

                He as twenty-six now, skin tanned and hair kept trimmed and neat, his green-blue eyes still sparkled with pride and kindness just allowing a hint of loneliness to alter the personality of which the eyes shone through. Other then the servants and businessmen and women who stayed or visited his home he lived alone, he had many lovers, all of which showed him no love and proved unsuitable for him, left from time-to-time. Quatre paid close attention to his studies, collage kept him worn out and tired, but he knew that a proper education was a direct connection to being a successful career and future.

                He wore a crimson red button up shirt and his slacks were black. A champaign glass filled a little over halfway hung in his hand, which he allowed to rest over the end of the red velvet couch he lay on. His head, which was propped slightly up on the arm of the couch, stared blankly into nowhere.

                What was so important about this day? Why now was he recalling his past- the past he so quickly ignored and had almost forgot? It was the day he and his friends parted, the day but exactly ten years after.

                He recalled the warm embraces and words shared between him and the other four Gundam Pilots, the last expressions and glances seen as they went their own ways. He remembered the sweet smell of a new beginning playing in the air and the taste of a lonesome tear that had traced down his cheek as he lay down his sleep that night

                So badly he wanted to feel that way again, so much more he wanted to embrace himself and feel the passion of the remembrance, but he refused to, mainly because of the deep sorrow that depressed his heart and made his body ache. There was no physical pain involved, just the huge mental hole that penetrated his chest, causing an air of sadness to gather in his throat, throbbing almost forcing up tears, but as time does flow, Quatre had grown, and as he did so, he learned to control his emotions, and he rarely shed any tears now. The one thing that made him unique among the others, the one thing that was truly beautiful about him was bone, beat to bits and thrown into a prison of darkness.

                He looked around the candlelit room through the shadows and slight darkness, he could see the outlines of musical instruments, fencing foils, and antique rifles all of which once belonged to his father and grandfather. Sighing, Quatre got up and walked out of the room and onto the balcony, thousands of stars could be seen that night, he set his champaign glass on the rim of the balcony, watching as a soft breeze sent ripples over the sparkling bubbling liquid.

                The sound of the door to his room being opened alerted him and he turned around, accidentally knocking the glass off, causing it to shatter on the ground, Quatre looked down at it momentarily than regained himself and faced the unexpected intruder.

                The man who had dark skin and brown hair bowed, "Sorry master Quatre to bother you, but you have a visitor that wishes to speak with you," the man though he stood tall, kept his head down avoiding any disrespect to his superior.

                Quatre advanced forward, "What's his name?"

                "Master, he refuses to say, but he claims to know you," the man answered nervously

                _Could it be... his soul smiled, "Escort him here and get somebody to clean this mess, "Quatre walked back into his room and settled himself back onto the couch and waited, after a few minutes his door opened, and a man with brown hair stepped in, his dark blue eyes reflected no emotion, he was dressed in a dark blue suit with a while under shirt. Quatre stood up and immediately recognized his old friend known as Heero Yuy._

                Glancing around the room the once commonly known perfect soldier examined the surroundings, noticing only two candles lit the room and were placed on the tables on the ends of the couch. _Where was the bright colorful boy he had known so long ago? He thought then faced the blond man._

                "Do you wish to sit down?" Quatre asked making a gesture toward the couch.

                "Yes, please, thank you," Heero answered politely and sat down.

                Quatre just stood up with no intention of sitting, "It's been a long time, my friend, is there anything you wish to talk about?" he said walking to one of the tables where a candle stood, three glasses sat upside down and a bottle of champaign boldly stood behind them.

                "Yes, actually, I recently spoke with the others, and we're planning on having a meeting, a celebration perhaps, or a remembrance party, Heero spoke in monotone.

                Quatre hand poured him self a drink and took a sip, "When?" he asked.

                "We were going to have it today, like every year we do..."

                "...You had meeting before?" Quatre interrupted.

                "Yes, but every year we can't get a hold of you, so I decided to ask you personally," Heero said straightening up.

                There was a long pause as Quatre took a deep swallow of the drink, then he looked down at Heero, examining the slight, barely noticeable pleading in his eyes, and the blond former pilot smiled, "I would be pleased to go."

                "I will meet you here tomorrow then?" Heero asked standing up.

                "Sounds reasonable," Quatre briefly shook his head.

                The two parted and the room once again grew quiet and the pilot quickly finished the rest of his champaign and laid down on the couch. The sound of crickets chirping filled the room, there was an air of excitement now and Quatre took one of the violins in hand he had been tuning earlier that day from beside the couch and began to play a joyful melody, though he was laying down he didn't miss a note, and he let his eyes close and body begin to relax until finally he drifted into a deep sleep, the violin slipped from his hands landing on the floor without a sound, not daring to wake the young man.

                The image of Heero filled his mind, he had not changed much at all, same expressions on the emotionless face, same piercing blue eyes that hid behind the mess of uncontrollable brown hair, and the same simple dress, always so simple.

TBC…

What do you think so far? Please review ^_^ 


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